I work as a dedicated administrative assistant for a CEO named David, a man who is worth millions of dollars and clearly could easily buy an entire island if he felt like it. I genuinely enjoy the work itself, but David has a consistently poor, entitled habit of treating his employees as if they are simply his personal resources, always readily available to serve his every whim. Every year, our office manager, Sarah, organizes a massive, obligatory collection for an extravagant Christmas gift for him. This tradition involves intense, unnecessary pressure on every employee, regardless of their position or current financial reality, making the entire experience feel more like a forced tax than a voluntary, heartfelt gesture of seasonal goodwill and appreciation toward him.
This year, the suggested contribution for this enormous collective gift had been raised again, pushing it up to an outrageous $100 per person. Since there are only 15 of us working in the small office, that hefty sum meant Sarah was ambitiously planning to purchase David a lavish, high-end espresso machine, costing a total of $1,500. This machine, it’s worth noting, would be entirely for his own personal home use, not for the office communal kitchen or for employee benefit. Sarah emailed everyone, stating that participation in this large group collection was “highly encouraged” and strongly emphasized the importance of showing our sincere “team spirit” through this considerable financial sacrifice.
I immediately replied all to Sarah’s email, trying to express my feelings as diplomatically as possible, and politely declined to participate in the excessive collection this year. I explained that $100 was simply too much for me to comfortably afford during the extremely expensive holiday season, considering my own personal budget and many other pressing financial commitments. I also clearly and pointedly mentioned that, given David’s considerable wealth, forcing his much lower-paid employees to purchase him such an extravagant, personal luxury item felt incredibly inappropriate and deeply insulting to us all. I firmly suggested that perhaps a simple, shared card would be a more suitable and respectful alternative tradition for the office.
The predictable backlash was swift, immediate, and utterly relentless. Sarah immediately stormed over to my desk, her face clearly red with barely contained fury, and loudly demanded to know why I had chosen to publicly “embarrass” her and immediately “disrupt” the established office tradition with my financially-conscious email. She argued aggressively that my refusal to pay the required $100 contribution demonstrated a serious lack of both “professional respect” and necessary “team loyalty” to David and the overall company culture. She then subtly implied that my public refusal to conform to this unspoken rule could potentially, and negatively, affect my future job performance reviews and any potential opportunities for necessary career advancement.
I calmly refused to retract my honest statement or, crucially, submit the required funds. I plainly informed Sarah that I was simply not David’s personal ATM machine and that my job performance was absolutely not tied to my willingness to fund his expensive home espresso habit. After my firm stand, I quickly realized two important, uncomfortable truths about my workplace: first, several other coworkers immediately, but quietly, approached me, privately thanking me for finally standing up and revealing that they also deeply resented the forced, costly tradition. Second, David himself eventually sent out a passive-aggressive office-wide memo, stating that he was deeply saddened by the current “lack of festive giving spirit” in the entire team.
Despite all the manufactured drama and Sarah’s hostile, continuing cold shoulder, I remained steadfast in my principled refusal. I had absolutely no intention of spending a full $100—nearly a full day’s pay for me—on a man who literally could buy the entire, high-end espresso machine factory without even noticing the minor expense. Standing up for myself publicly cost me the immediate approval of my manager, but it ultimately preserved my much-needed financial integrity and, more importantly, demonstrated my clear and unwavering self-respect. I may now be an office pariah, but my bank account is intact, and my self-worth is clearly restored for the difficult, coming year.
